The Bloody Baron
by Nestrik
Summary: Rewritten. What happened to the Bloody Baron to make him... bloody? The story of the Bloody Baron. My first R fic, I wasn't sure if this was PG-13 or R.
1. Authors Note

I've come a long ways since I wrote my first fanfic ever, "Harry Potter and the War of the Rings." (I know some of you are thinking, Oh no, here comes the dramatic speech. Well, you're right.) Or, at least I have in my opinion. People have begged me for details, and longer chapters.  
  
You can complain about details all you want. But PLEASE do not bog me down with complaints about how long my chapters are. We all have our own writing style.  
  
Anyway, here is the rewrite of "The Bloody Baron." I'm making it longer, I'm giving it more details and reason (I hope) and all that crap. I hope you enjoy it. I'd like to dedicate it to Kumiko Eharu, Kazulko Itoe, Orlha Cloe (sorry if I didn't spell that right), Xela Lupe, and Unicorn Angel Gurl on Fanfiction specifically. Outside of the website, Nick, if you're reading this. maybe I do. You know.  
  
This is rated R for violence and lunatics.  
  
Enough shit. Lets get on with the good stuff!  
  
*****Nestrik Ciorstaidh-Cairistonia 


	2. Prologue

"So- new Gryffindors! I hope you're going to help us win the house championship this year? Gryffindors have never gone so long without winning. Slytherins have got the cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable- he's the Slytherin ghost."  
  
Harry looked over at the Slytherin table and saw a horrible ghost sitting there, with blank staring eyes, a gaunt face, and robes stained with silver blood. He was right next to Malfoy who, Harry was pleased to see, didn't look too pleased with the seating arrangements.  
  
"How did he get covered in blood?" asked Seamus with great interest.  
  
"I've never asked," said Nearly Headless Nick delicately.  
  
-Page 124 Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone 


	3. Introduction

HE REMEMBERED THE FIRST TIME HE SAW ROWENA.  
  
She was with her friend Helga Hufflepuff, in one of the villages. Hogsmeade, it was called. She had been laughing, her head thrown back. Her hair blew away from her face in the crisp autumn breeze, brunette-red clouding her face, swinging to and fro. Her unfathomable green eyes seemed to generate a life of their own, to send sparks dancing away and set the leaves aflame.  
  
He knew he was in love.  
  
Next to her, Helga stood, lifeless. She wasn't exactly lifeless, but she looked that way with the vibrant Rowena Ravenclaw standing next to her. Helga's hair was blonde, and it hung limply to her shoulders. Her skin was pale, and though her eyes were blue, they never shot out flames like Rowena's did. She was withdrawn with her emotions. They couldn't be seen in the depths of Helga's eyes.  
  
Both girls had been fifteen at the time. At sixteen, Rowena fell in love with Godric Gryffindor. To use the popular term, they were high school sweethearts; walking hand in hand, arm in arm, around the village of Hogsmeade where they both lived. They shared their hopes and dreams of beginning a school right outside Hogsmeade. Rowena had always loved Astronomy as a subject, and Godric loved Transfiguration. They wanted to marry, then build the school and teach for a few years, and then Rowena would retire and begin their family together.  
  
She married Godric five years later. One year before the marriage, she contacted Helga and their old friend Salazar Slytherin. She shared her and Godric's idea of beginning a wizarding school with them. They both jumped at the chance at came straight to England (Helga had been in Russia visiting family, and Salazar was in Albania).  
  
"The best of Beaxbatons and Durmstrang!" Rowena told them in her letter, sent by her trusty owl, Grainne. Helga, Godric, and Rowena had all gone to Beaxbatons together, but over the summer had stayed in Hogsmeade, their 'home base,' as Godric called it. Salazar had gone to Durmstrang, and the three friends met him during the Triwizard Tournament.  
  
The next obstacle was to find professors.  
  
They went out into the world to find suitable teachers. Slytherin brought back Britcin Slarendazar from Durmstrang to teach Potions. However, no one called him that name. They simply called him "The Baron." No one knew why.  
  
Britcin Slarendazar, The Baron, would be known in the time of Harry Potter, The Boy who Lived, as the Bloody Baron, the ghost of Slytherin House.  
  
This is his story.  
  
You have been warned.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Disclaimer- everyone belongs to J.K. Rowling. I just made up the name for the Bloody Baron myself. I'm not repeating this disclaimer again, so. 


	4. Chapter One

"No, no, no! You can't add the frog livers until you've got the blood of ox to a boiling point! That means over 451 degrees Fahrenheit! But NOT TOO HOT! " Britcin shook his head. Why were his students such idiots? They were in their fourth year too. Unacceptable. Simply unacceptable.  
  
"Professor," a small, high-pitched voice said from Britcin's right side. "I think I did it wrong."  
  
The Baron looked down to see a boy standing in front of him. His throat had swelled down to a size that only an American dime could fit through, much less words in a normal tone of voice.  
  
"That is why you can't let it out of the bowl, Davis! I told you a million times! How hot was the temperature?" Britcin paused and thought for a moment. "You didn't let it rise to 600 degrees again, did you?"  
  
The boy began to cry.  
  
The Baron sighed. "Go down to Madame Filch. She will fix you up." He shook his head. Why, why, why had he ever decided to become a teacher in Hogwarts?  
  
Because you wanted to, said a voice in his head.  
  
No, I didn't. I felt it was my public duty to help the new school, another voice continued.  
  
No, no, no, the first voice slithered. You wanted to be close to Rowena.  
  
"NO!" Britcin yelled.  
  
The class looked at him. He glared at them in return.  
  
"Class dismissed," he said.  
  
There were shouts of joy. The Baron had NEVER ended class early before. Students rushed out of the room to the Slytherin and Hufflepuff common rooms in a steady stream. The babble diminished as all the students left. The only company Britcin had now was Davis's cauldron, which was melted and bubbling on the floor.  
  
The Baron left the classroom after magically cleaning the cauldron up and went down the stone corridor. When he reached his chamber, he shut the door. He stayed there until someone knocked.  
  
"Come in," he grumbled miserably. It wasn't Rowena. Her knock was more powerful than that, not a wispy little tap-tap-tap.  
  
Helga opened the door. Pretty, blonde little Helga. He felt like strangling her.  
  
Why did I never ask Rowena to marry me? he asked himself in a feeling of misery.  
  
"Hello, Britcin," Helga said. She was the only one who called him Britcin.  
  
The Baron forced a smile.  
  
"Hello, Helga dearest. Nice day, isn't it?"  
  
"You wouldn't know," Helga whispered. She shivered in the coldness of the dungeon. The walls seemed to radiate a fell chill into the air. "Why don't you come upstairs? Dinner is ready."  
  
"I don't want to be near her," said The Baron.  
  
"It's no use, Britcin. She's married and there is nothing you can do about it now. I'm just trying to take away some of the pain," Helga said quietly, in an attempt to console him.  
  
"It's not working."  
  
"I love you, Britcin. I don't like to see you hurt. You're like a." Helga trailed off, lost for words that could describe what Britcin was like to her without scaring him off.  
  
"I know you love me. You've told me many times. But."  
  
"Please, Britcin! Marry me, please. Maybe you'll forget about Rowena. I love you more than anything. I'd give my life for you," Helga interrupted. There was a desperate tone in her soft voice that made Britcin angry.  
  
The Baron thought about the last sentence.  
  
"I will marry you," he said.  
  
Rowena wouldn't give her life for him. She didn't even care.  
  
~*~  
  
The wedding took place later that week.  
  
Helga was a radiant bride, waving to everyone and blowing kisses. Happy tears streamed down her pale cheeks. Her white veil and gown clashed sharply with her pale skin.  
  
During the ceremony, The Baron began to cry also. He could only remember how Rowena had looked during her wedding. Beautiful. Helga was like a rag doll.  
  
"It's okay, Britcin," Helga whispered. "I'm here. I'll be here for you, forever."  
  
Forever. The Baron could only remember who it was whom he wanted at his side at that moment, and forever.  
  
Rowena was sitting in the first pew. Next to Godric.  
  
Helga had gone to India for her honeymoon. The Baron had gone too, in body. His heart was with Rowena, whenever she taught, whenever she slept, whenever she kissed Godric Gryffindor goodnight.  
  
That was when he first felt the rage. The indescribable rage that tingled in his hands whenever he saw Helga, the rage that burned his throat when he thought of Rowena. The rage that drove him to put a rope around his neck. His rage grew worse when Helga walked in on his little episode. Britcin managed to hide the rope from her.  
  
Helga became pregnant. She said that the honeymoon had to be cut short. She wanted to give birth in England, Hogsmeade specifically, with Godric, Rowena, and Salazar at her side.  
  
Nine months passed like wildfire. It was all a blur for The Baron. A blur of Rowena, holding hands with Godric, kissing Godric, comforting Helga, and announcing at Christmastime that she was pregnant. With Godric's baby.  
  
Why did I ever agree to marry Helga? Britcin thought in desperation.  
  
His wife was pregnant. But his wife was the wrong person. 


	5. Chapter Two

On January 13th, a Friday, Helga gave birth. The male child was stillborn. It was buried under the name of Peeves. His ghost would haunt the school for years to come. Only the ghost of the Baron could control him. ~*~  
  
The days were long and hard.  
  
The Baron taught Potions every day except Saturday and Sunday. Weeknights, he helped serve detentions to naughty children, along with the professors who had given them the detentions in the first place. They were disgusting punishments, too. Help out in the infirmary, cleaning up after victims of stomach viruses. Clean out and polish the chamber pots. Take Professor Klinkle's, who taught Care of Magical Creatures, giant flobberworms out for walks. Whoever completed that task successfully was promoted to tending his caged Billywigs (see page 4 of the textbook Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by the ever-loved writer of educational books Newt Scamander).  
  
On the weekends he had to sit about Helga. She had never recovered from the shock.  
  
Outwardly, Helga hadn't changed. She was still dishwater blonde, dull and boring. A good helper, a good personality, no imagination whatsoever, and a firm believer in hard work.  
  
Rowena changed every day without fail. She was subject to mood swings, and sometimes her eyes would change colors, from vibrant cat-eye green to the gray of a winter ocean. As Hogwarts thrived, she thrived too. Her life was the school in the months before she had to retire to bedrest.  
  
Godric didn't know how lucky he was to have her as a wife. He was often away on business, scouting out new teachers and students and such. Whenever he was away Rowena would have terrible headaches, and she claimed that her baby (now two months along) was kicking her madly. Once she even bled and Madame Filch had to heal her and reprimand her for working too hard whilst she was pregnant. Whenever Godric came back, these strange ailments would mysteriously disappear.  
  
Rowena loved Godric. The Baron loved Rowena. Helga loved The Baron. The baby Peeves, had he lived, would have loved no one but his nanny. The Baron was sure of that.  
  
The rage grew inside. The Baron's face became even more white and drawn then it had been previously.  
  
The day after Godric returned from the absence where Rowena had bled, Gleneden Hinesburg, a student, was found in the greenhouse.  
  
He had been knifed to death. ~*~  
  
Gleneden Hinesburg was a good sort: Hufflepuff prefect, honor student, Quidditch player (the most excellent Chaser Hufflepuff House had ever had).  
  
He was walking down the halls the day he was murdered when his Potions teacher stepped out of the shadows.  
  
"Hello, Professor," said Gleneden.  
  
"Hello, Hinesburg. Care to join me for a walk?"  
  
That was in the Great Hall on Tuesday. At 6:00 Wednesday morning, a Huffelpuff named Greta went to the greenhouse. She was the Quidditch Seeker who liked to practice early in the mornings, but this morning had chores to do in the greenhouse before practice. Greta opened the door and screamed.  
  
There was Gleneden.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Disclaimer: Greta and Gleneden belong to me. 


	6. Chapter Three

The school was buzzing with rumors about who killed Gleneden Hinesburg. Some said it was Greta herself. She did, after all, find Gleneden's body and had chores in the greenhouse that morning.  
  
She had Potions class on Wednesday, two days after Gleneden was murdered.  
  
Greta entered the classroom, head down. The Baron sat at his desk grading papers. He looked up as Greta came through the door. A pang of guilt shot through his body. The girl didn't deserve such treatment. After all, she hadn't killed Gleneden. Greta had been his best friend. They had played Quidditch together, and Gleneden had been a gentleman and had walked Greta to all of her classes.  
  
Whispers shot through the classroom.  
  
"Murderer."  
  
"She did it, I know it."  
  
"I heard that she and Glen got it a fight the night before she found his body."  
  
"No, you fool, you've got it all wrong. Gleneden was secretly courting Greta, and when Greta turned him down, he went over the edge."  
  
"Silence!" Britcin stood menacingly at his desk. The class was silent.  
  
"Steiner," he said in a commanding tone. Greta winced as her name was called in the quiet classroom. "You shall sit in the back, behind Donahue."  
  
"But professor!" Frederick Donahue stood in protest. "She's a bloody murderer!"  
  
"Silence!" Britcin said again. "You seem not to have learned your manners, Donahue. Detention. Meet me in the infirmary at eleven tonight. You shall hold watch over Gleneden's body until his parents come and claim it. We have contacted them."  
  
"But sir!" Frederick Donahue continued. "That's awful! A corpse? Why doesn't Greta watch over it? This is cruel and unusual!"  
  
"One more word, Donahue, and you shall wash and dress the body for burial too!" Britcin shouted.  
  
Donahue sat down, eyes widened by this threat. Greta looked somewhere between shocked and relieved as she sat down behind him. ~*~  
  
Britcin walked through the dungeons. He welcomed the cold of underground. Helga couldn't stand it. That's why The Baron refused to move his quarters upstairs. Helga didn't understand why, and she had come to presume the worst: He was either a vampire, a werewolf, or he was cheating on her.  
  
Britcin wasn't any of those things. But he did feel a guilty pleasure at having Helga think he was.  
  
Toppling over the edge wasn't easily recognizable if one was very crazy. 


	7. Chapter Four

Helga strode through the Great Hall. She opened the doors and welcomed the fresh air. Taking deep breaths, she walked along the river that pooled into the lake at the bottom of the hill. The river was failing. Helga knew that in a hundred years or so, the river would no longer exist. She felt like the river, slowly fading against the background of her husband's life. She knew that Britcin still loved Rowena. Helga loved him so, but he didn't, or couldn't, return it. Perhaps it was time she started fading him into the background of her life.  
  
Are you aware of what  
  
You make me feel, baby Right now I feel invisible to you Like I'm not real Didn't you feel me lock my arms around you Why'd you turn away Here's what I have to say  
  
"Helga!"  
  
A voice called to her from the top of the hill. Helga turned around. Fritz rushed towards her, his monks brown robe trailing out behind him on the grass. His round frame looked like Heaven to Helga's eyes. Britcin had become so gaunt in the last few weeks.  
  
"Helga!" the Friar said again as he caught up to her. "Helga, dearest, you have been acting quite strange lately. Care to tell what's going on?"  
  
Helga sighed. "It's Britcin," she finally said. "I don't think he respects me anymore. He never loved me. But he did respect me." Helga sighed again. This was the part where she unlocked the most kept secret, the one closest to her heart. "I think he loves Rowena."  
  
I was left to cry there  
  
Waiting outside there Grinning with a lost stare That's when I decided. Why should I care? Cause you weren't there  
  
"Oh, Helga darling," Fritz said. He embraced her. Helga's small form fit into the curves of his robe perfectly.  
  
Helga drew away from him, but left her hands resting on his arms. She looked into the Fat Friar's welcoming brown eyes, and let herself fall into his embrace again, with more enthusiasm. "You're the best friend I could ever have, Fritz," Helga said into the depths of his robe.  
  
I was so alone  
  
You need to listen I'm starting to trip I'm losing my grip And I'm in this thing alone  
  
Britcin needed air. Fresh air, not dungeon air, for a change. He decided to go to the lake. The place would be deserted and tranquil.  
  
Am I just some chick  
  
You placed beside you To take somebody's place When you turn around Can you recognize my face  
  
Fritz kissed the top of Helga's head. "Its alright, dear," he consoled her. "It's alright."  
  
You used to love me You used to hug me But that wasn't the case Everything wasn't ok  
  
Britcin marched down the hill and spied to figures by the stream. He blinked. It couldn't be. His eyes weren't adjusted to the light yet. It couldn't be.  
  
It was.  
  
I was left to cry there  
  
Waiting outside there Grinning with a lost stare That's when I decided.  
  
"HELGA!"  
  
The yell echoed down the hill and into Helga's ears. She tore apart from the Friar like lightning. It was Britcin. He said her name. The simple thing warmed Helga's heart, until she saw the mad look in Britcin's eyes.  
  
"Britcin?" she asked tentatively. "What's wrong? What happened?"  
  
Why should I care?  
  
Cause you weren't there When I was scared I was so alone You need to listen I'm starting to trip I'm losing my grip And I'm in this thing alone Crying out loud I'm crying out loud Crying out loud I'm crying out loud  
  
Helga looked at the Fat Friar questioningly. She could see in his eyes that he didn't know what the hell was going on either.  
  
In unison, they started running up the hill. Helga couldn't expel the mad gleam in Britcin's eyes from her mind.  
  
Open your eyes  
  
Open up wide  
  
Why should I care?  
  
Cause you weren't there When I was scared I was so alone You need to listen I'm starting to trip I'm losing my grip And I'm in this thing alone  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
A/N- Fritz=the Fat Friar. Also, this is my first songfic chapter. There's another one on the way. This song belongs to Avril Lavigne. It's called, appropriately, "Losing My Grip." Sorry if the lyrics didn't come out bold, italicized and underlined, that's the way I wrote it.  
  
Disclaimer- you can tell what's mine. I'll tell you when I become J.K. Rowling, okie day? 


	8. Chapter Five

Rowena Ravenclaw-Gryffindor stroked her swollen belly affectionately. Godric's daughter grew inside. Rowena knew that it was a girl. The babe was so gentle with its kicks.  
  
Thump. Rowena patted the place where the baby kicked. "Hello, angel," she whispered. Then she leaned back into her chair.  
  
It was August and the castle was undergoing preparations for September 1st. Rowena sat in the Ravenclaw common room, a rectangular space with many tables and chairs.  
  
"Fifi, darling," she called out. Madame Filch rushed to her side. "What is it, Mistress?"  
  
Rowena smiled sheepishly. "Can you move me next to that open window that views the lake? I feel a tad stuffy."  
  
"As you wish," said the Madame, and she drew the chair over to the window with her wand.  
  
Rowena gazed out the window. Helga and the Friar were talking by the lake. Rowena's brow furrowed in concern. Lately, Helga hadn't been well. She suspected it had something to do with the Baron, but she wasn't sure.  
  
The warm air was comforting. Rowena fancied that she heard a shout before she drifted off to sleep. ~*~  
  
I cannot take this anymore  
  
I'm saying everything I've said before All these words they make no sense I find bliss in ignorance  
  
The Baron crashed through the great doors leading into the entrance hall. Helga and the Friar? Together? Britcin had underestimated Helga. She was perfectly capable of having an affair. Sweet, perfect, blonde little Helga. A cheater and a whore.  
  
He knew that, this time, he'd gone over the edge. He didn't know which, though.  
  
Less I hear the less you'll say  
  
But you'll find that out anyway Just like before. Everything you say to me Takes me one step closer to the edge And I'm about to break  
  
Britcin made a sharp turn. Helga and Fritz didn't deserve a quick, painless death. He hit rather than stroked the pear in the painting. It yelled, "ouch!" then reluctantly turned into a handle.  
  
Britcin strode in. His wand was out and pointed at the house-elves, who suddenly all scurried into a corner, making little squeaking noises.  
  
"Avada Kedavra!" he roared. "Avada Kedavra! Avada Kedavra!"  
  
Over and over he yelled it, until all the house elves laid in a little pile in a corner.  
  
Britcin grabbed a butcher knife that was halfway dug into a turkey. He ripped it out and brushed the white meat strands off it with his finger.  
  
Back out through the picture he went. He murmured something under his breath, and the pear in the painting began to yelp in pain as flames devoured it.  
  
I need a little room to breathe Cause I'm one step closer to the edge And I'm about to break I find the answers aren't so clear  
  
The air wasn't welcoming anymore as he strode back outside. Britcin would give anything to be back in his dungeons.  
  
Helga and the Friar stopped running up the hill as Britcin strode back out. "Britcin!" Helga cried. "What's wrong?"  
  
She caught a gleam of silver in his hand. "Britcin," she whispered, backing up. The world began to spin. Silently and without expression, Britcin walked up to the Friar.  
  
"Uh, e-excu-use m-m-me si-r," the Friar began to stutter.  
  
CLUMP. The Friar fell to the ground, clutching a wound in his side. The knife had punctured a lung. The air in his lungs whooshed out with a noise like a breeze rattling through tree branches in fall.  
  
Wish I could find a way to disappear All these thoughts they make no sense I find bliss in ignorance Nothing seems to go away Over and over again Just like before. Everything you say to me Takes me one step closer to the edge And I'm about to break I need a little room to breathe Cause I'm one step closer to the edge And I'm about to break  
  
"Hello, Helga darling," Britcin grinned as he approached her. Helga backed up some more. "Britcin, what's going on?"  
  
"Sweet, perfect little Helga. Perfectly capable of going behind my back!" The grin disappeared from the Baron's face.  
  
"What are you talking about?" Helga yelled out in confusion.  
  
"SHUT UP!" The Baron yelled as the knife answered her question.  
  
Shut up when I'm talking to you  
  
~*~ Godric Gryffindor strode up the walkway. It was good to be home.  
  
He checked himself sharply as he turned the corner of the drive. Someone was lying on the grass. Two people, actually.  
  
"Helga?" he asked as he began to stride towards her.  
  
"Avada Kedavra!"  
  
A flash of green light was the last thing Godric saw. But before that came a whisper.  
  
"You took the only thing that mattered to me."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
A/N- I'm trying to decide if this is PG-13 or R. Will ya'll help me decide?  
  
Disclaimer- Song is "One Step Closer" by my all time favorite band, Linkin Park 


	9. Chapter Six

Rowena awoke from her nap and looked out the window. What was that?  
  
She tried to get up. "Godric?" she yelled feebly.  
  
"Obliviate," said The Baron to Rowena. He had crept upstairs before she had awakened.  
  
~*~  
  
"Rowena," said The Baron. "Your husband was found dead. Yesterday. by the lake." Britcin put in a stutter for effect.  
  
"How?" Rowena said, grasping her belly. Her eyes were wide with fear.  
  
"Avada Kedavra."  
  
"No," she whispered. "No no no no no no no. You must be mistaken."  
  
"He is dead, Rowena."  
  
"No."  
  
"Let me mix you a sedative. You'll feel better in the morning." He left her.  
  
Salazar entered. He had not yet turned evil.  
  
"Oh, Rowena," he whispered in a friendly manner. "Why Godric?"  
  
She looked into his eyes and he knew right away that someone had put a memory charm on her.  
  
He pointed his wand at her and began breaking the spell.  
  
  
  
Rowena told Salazar what she had seen.  
  
"My souls," Salazar whispered. "Britcin killed Godric?  
  
"Yes," Rowena whispered. She didn't want to believe.  
  
"Britcin," Salazar breathed. He looked at Rowena. "I will take care of him," said Salazar flatly. He left the room.  
  
"No, Salazar! No! Don't hurt him! Don't!"  
  
Rowena's feeble cries had no effect on Salazar. ~*~  
  
Time for three more kills before he died. Rowena, Salazar. and himself. The Baron of Hogwarts.  
  
Slipping on his Invisibility cloak, he stole from the room and went to the hospital wing where Rowena had gone after learning of Godric's death.  
  
The crisp white linen rattled at his touch. He drew back the curtain hiding Rowena's bed. She was still awake.  
  
Her eyes grew wide. "No," she murmured. "No. No. No. No. NO!"  
  
Britcin smiled.  
  
"You tempting Siren of the night, you Calypso, you Circe, you tantalizing witch! I'll killed you like I killed your husband! I always loved you, and when you married him, I died." Britcin raised his wand arm. "I DIED! Don't you understand? You were everything to me, and you took it all away! I had so much fun killing your husband," he suddenly murmured, stroking his wand. "And now I shall kill you."  
  
He raised his wand.  
  
"Avada Kedavra!"  
  
Rowena lay still on her bed.  
  
The Baron walked over to her. He bent down and kissed her cold, icy, dead lips.  
  
He left her eyes open and her mouth still in a shocked O as he left the room. 


	10. Chapter Seven

Salazar saw him striding down the corridor. He saw the crazed glint in his eye. He raised his arm to say Avada Kedavra.  
  
But the Baron disappeared under his Invisibility cloak. He ran towards the highest tower, the Astronomy tower. He climbed onto the roof. The gardener would be so scared when they found his mangled body laying on the ground... broken.  
  
Britcin spread his arms and tipped himself forwards.  
  
The Baron stayed alive long enough to begin his descent down to the ground, and his descent into the world of the dead. 


	11. Nestrik CiorstiadhCairistonia's Thanks

Author's Thanks  
  
Hey everyone! It's Nestrik Ciorstaidh-Cairistonia.  
  
This story is for all my friends, especially Alex, Kristen, Kelly, (I think those three would enjoy this one) and Nick, I miss you. A lot.  
  
For all my Fanfiction.net buddies:  
  
The Ice Mice The Good Haiku Police SSJTOM a.k.a. the LEAFSTER Kumiko Eharu Kazulko Itoe Xela Lupe Unicorn Angel Gurl AmBLONDE LuvBug Mr. X Black Diamond And scabberssucks- thanks for your great story!  
  
If you liked this story, check out:  
  
"The Founding Lovers" by Black Diamond "A Love Not Forgotten" by The Ice Mice "Sanity and Insanity. but mostly Insanity" by The Ice Mice "Nothing" by Xela Lupe "Into the Mists" by Nestrik Ciorstaidh-Cairistonia (me) 


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